The Conscript
by BlueMew
Summary: The war on Titan tore familes apart while bringing others closer. Comrades are forged through necessity to combat the futility of it all. Pre-series.
1. Birdland

Dedicated to all you Gren fangirls and boys out there.

_Conscript_

_Chapter 1- Birdland_

Carl Levin stared in the smoke-tinged mirror at his reflection. The years spent in Birdland, the jazz club he had personally built from nothing in Tharsis, had added lines of worry and regret to his still jovial face, and his tight-knit hair was now flecked with grey, but why should he complain about losing his youth? It happened to everyone, so he just rolled with the punches and kept on smiling.

That boy was the same way, although he was a bit funny. Carl couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was about Gren that made him think this, but there was just something in the naïve way the boy handled his life that made him wonder.

There was also the fact that he could never get Gren to get serious with a girlfriend, even one as pretty as Coletta Johnson. Lord, he tried to set his best bartender and waitress up; had been doing it since the girl was old enough. Hell, if he was ten years younger, Carl would be doing whatever it took to make Coletta his, she was just that great.

But Gren only took Coletta to the park or out with some of his other friends. Letta even said she'd tried to trick Gren in to a kiss, and that he freaked when she pushed her tongue past his lips, getting mad because he thought of her as a comrade, not a lover.

Jesus in Heaven, that boy was more naïve than a five year old. And who even thought of comrades anymore? What was this boy, some old-fashioned sissy Commie from a hundred years ago?

But what should Carl care about Gren's love life? When the kid was ready to settle down, he'd pick a girl and get so involved with her that nothing else could bother him. The kid was obsessive with two things- mixing drinks and playing sax. He'd be the same in a relationship.

Carl straightened his tie as he finished in the mirror, heading back toward his home and business. The club was usually dead on Mondays, which would leave Gren and him some quality time for a jam session.

It was hard to believe that it had been fifteen years since he found Gren sitting in that doorway like some lost puppy. The kid hadn't lied about his abilities on the sax, and together the owner and the kid had brought the entertainment the poor saps of the city wanted to hear. People flocked from all over the System to hear the legendary duo play old standards and some of Gren's new numbers, so much that the club could barely hold everyone that wanted to attend on the weekends.

"Hey Carl. Think we can talk tonight?"

The elder shrugged. "Sure, can't see no harm in talkin' on a Monday."

Gren smiled, keeping his eyes down upon the countertop. At twenty-five he still kept his boyish appearance and slender, almost effeminate figure as if he was still to finish puberty. Carl was shocked to find out that the kid shaved maybe once a month- Letta had told him one night when Gren wasn't working. Carl even asked him to cut his hair once, just so that newcomers didn't assume he was a woman and hit on him, but Gren just laughed, saying he didn't really mind the extra attention his appearance brought.

Carl never brought up that subject again.

The elder could sense something was wrong, in the sluggish way the boy served a cocktail to a man who had just sat down at the bar; in the way Gren's smile looked. . . .

"Gren, you wanna just jam tonight?"

"No, but thank you."

Carl looked around the club, calling one of the waitresses over to the bar to take his place, which she did without question. As Gren pulled two beers from the fridge under the bar, Carl placed a thick arm around the boy's shoulders, waiting for him to deposit the bottles in front of the couple that ordered them before leading him to the back room.

"Gren, I've known you for too damn long to know when you's hidin'somethin'. What's wrong? Yo' daddy threatenin' to kick you out again?"

"No, it's nothing like that. Father and I have come to an understanding- as long as I pay my rent on time, he doesn't care what I do, as long as it doesn't shame our family's name. Mother wants him to be friendlier, but what can I say? My sister is the one destined to take his place, not me. That life was never mine." Gren tried to smile, but the attempt was futile. Instead, he pulled a box and lighter from his breast pocket, puffing at a cigarette before the smile had completely faded to worry. "And if there was something wrong, I couldn't change it."

Carl only laughed, slapping Gren's shoulder as he chuckled. "You dog! Letta's gonna be havin' your kid, isn't she?"

Gren tried hard not to laugh, cocking an eyebrow at the man that had been his mentor and comrade, if not more of a father than Elijah had ever been, for the majority of his life. "There's no way I could ever get Letta pregnant. Just trust me on that, ok?"

"Well, what's botherin' you? I never seen you so blue, 'cept for the day I found yo' skinny ass on my doorstep."

Reaching in to his trouser pocket with his free hand, Gren retrieved a folded up piece of paper, carefully unfolding it so he could read it aloud.

"Mr. Grencia M. E. Guo-Eckener,

Due to Proposition 68.219, you are hereby summoned to report to the Tharsis Military Airfield on March 14, 2068, at 8:00 AM as a conscript of the Martian Armed Forces. Failure to report for duty will result in punishment to the fullest extent of the law.

Gen. H. Collinsworth

M.A.F."

Both remained silent for a few moments. The war on Titan had only erupted to full scale combat two weeks prior- how could the government have already started the draft?

"So, you gonna fight or run to Earth?"

Gren only shook his head, letting the paper fall to the ground. "I have no idea. I couldn't kill someone, but I don't want to get caught if they start searching Earth for draft dodgers."

"It ain't fair, kid. Politicians always be takin' the workin' men to fight their stupid battles for things like those damn opal mines." He sighed. "And if yo' daddy was worth anything like he thinks he is, you never would be gettin' no draft notice! He'd say you been to university an' all, an' that you a respectable member of society, gunnin' to be a politician an' all."

"But I'm not. I only went to university because it made Mother smile, and I only graduated in the top ten because it would have broken her heart if I hadn't."

Carl sighed, squeezing the young man's shoulder as he forced a smile. "Well, you still got two days a' freedom. You don' hafta work if you don' wanna, but you more than welcome t' play here. And when you come back, I'll be waitin' to jam with you again."

The young man just smiled. "I promise that I'll be back as long as you promise to keep my sax while I'm gone."

Standing from his seat upon a milk crate, Gren leaned down to hug Carl, hiding the tears that were welling in his eyes. "I must tell my family about this. Mother will be devastated, but she would notice that I've gone missing after a few days, so she does need to know. . . ."

With a sigh, he broke the embrace, placing the cigarette back between his lips. "Just keep my sax, ok? I'll miss every single one of you." Letta and the other waitress stopped what they were doing as they heard his words, but after seeing Carl emerge from the back room looking as if he would explode if either of them stepped out of line, neither girl deviated from her job. Letta did watch Gren leave out of the corner of her eye as she placed drinks in front of three men sitting at one of her tables, and the sadness in those eyes made her want to cry.


	2. Thriving From A Riff

_Conscript_

_Chapter 2- Thriving From A Riff_

The night was still young, but Gren wasn't thinking of what sort of amusements he could find in Tharsis. Instead, he was searching for the right gift to give his mother; something to soften the blow of the tragic news. He finally decided on a bouquet of white roses, and slowly walked toward his home in the nicer section of the city.

His father had worked hard to move the entire family from Earth, and while Valeria did not remember her birth planet and the beautiful palm trees that lined the sandy beaches of the port, Gren could appreciate how much his parents sacrificed to give their children the best life possible. That's what made him come back, no matter that he wanted to leave home or to tell them his secrets. It was far too important to let them have a happy twilight than for him to be selfish like Val.

The house was modest for one in this section of Tharsis, but was still bigger than the ones in Miami or Alba. With a quick turn of his key, Gren stepped inside the large entrance room, hanging up his coat and placing his shoes with the rest of the family's.

"Mother? I'm home early tonight. Are you still awake?"

A feeble reply came from the television room in acknowledgement. Hurrying to the room, he kissed his mother's forehead as she sat in her recliner watching her soaps before handing her the roses.

"Grencia, what's the occasion? It's not my birthday. Are you going to return to work for your father?"

Sitting cross legged on the floor in front of her, Gren sighed as he pulled the summons from his pocket, opening it gently before handing it to her. "I've been drafted. I leave for the army in two days."

Mother read the letter, sighing heavily as she let it drop to her lap. "You're too old for the military, and you've been to college. Why are they choosing such a sweet boy like you when there are so many urchins running the streets?"

Her gaze turned upward, as if she was thinking. Gren moved next to her, as a child would, allowing her to put her arm around his shoulder.

"Your uncle still lives on Earth, and you could pass for Valeria for the time it takes to get there."

"He's not going to dodge the draft." Both Gren and Mother turned to stare at Father, a short dark haired man of formidable stature and build. "This unit he's been drafted in to is comprised of all the affluent sons of Mars. Public outcry was that the rich send their children as well, so the first unit to be drafted has to be like this. Otherwise we'll all lose our claims to the opal mines."

Mother sighed as she accepted her husband's statement, but Gren remained catatonic. Boys, like those he attended school with, were all being sent to secure opal mines for their fathers? It was ridiculous!

"If that is the way it will be, then I see why Grencia must go."

"Mother!"

"You watch your tone! Her health is fragile, and you don't want to have her death weighing upon your mind for the rest of your life!"

Gren's eyes returned to the floor as his mother continued to run her fingers through his hair. "No sir."

"I'll take you to the base then. Enjoy these next two days, and when you come back, all of that nonsense about being a musician should be gone from your system."

He did not look at his father as he exited the room, only leaned closer to Mother's soothing hand as her nails gently scraped his scalp, mixing pleasure with contentment. She knew nothing of his secrets, and that suited them well. He would always be her favorite child, even though he would be forced to act as a man in less than a week.

"Grencia, when you come back, I'll find you a suitable fiancée. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Mother." He leaned closer to her hand, closing his eyes. He wanted nothing of the sort, but if it would make her happy. . . . .

"Then you can have children, two or three of them, and hopefully you will be as blessed as I am to have the most perfect son any woman could hope for. We should have stopped having children when you were born, but your father insisted he needed a second son, in case something happened to you. But he had Valeria, and she's been nothing but a handful since the day she was born."

Gren heard the door open, certain his younger sister had entered the house by the stumbling and cursing coming from the entrance hall. Her hair was almost black, and cut to chin length in a crisp bob that was all the rage among her friends.

She entered the television room with her books slung casually over her shoulder, rolling her eyes at the scene in front of her.

"Mother, if you keep treating him like that, he's going to turn in to a fag, but God knows he's already there."

Gren backed away from his mother's hand as she folded it across her lap. "Valeria, where have you been?"

"Out."

"I don't want to hear about you being pregnant or failing out of university after only your second semester."

"I won't fail, Mother." The venom in her words made Gren wince, but not their mother. "I'll amount to more than the little queer ever could."

"You'll regret those words if he is killed on Titan."

Valeria's face fell at her mother's words, her entire posture changing from combative to dumbstruck as she turned to stare at her now standing brother. "I, I didn't know. Grencia, I'm sorry to hear the news."

He only smiled as he walked toward the door. "As Carl says, it will all work out. I only hope you treat Mother as I would when I'm off fighting some bloody war. Good night."


End file.
